


Two Witches In the Family

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Friendships, Hogwarts, Jealousy, Magical Petunia Dursley, Marauders' Era, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quidditch, Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: It's never easy to be brilliant, friendly, pretty, wonderfully talented Lily Evans' sister.Even when you're also a witch yourself.But Petunia Evans isn't one to just let herself fade in the background and be forgotten, not if she has anything to say about it (and she has plenty to say, even if she doesn't voice it out loud). Someday, she'll shine on her own, just wait and see!However, shining in a war-torn era isn't that easy when you're Muggleborn, and even more so when no matter what, Lily always seems to do everything better...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What if Petunia had been a witch?
> 
> That's a question I have always found fascinating, because think of all the potential!
> 
> The idea became a big fic project I had for years but never worked on until I decided to use it as a Nano idea last November. The fic isn't yet finished (and I need to get myself back to writing, damnit), but it has progressed well and I had much pleasure writing it down and introducting little bits of headcannons and mythology gags in when I could.
> 
> And hopefully, dear readers, you'll have fun as well reading it all.

There is a big disadvantage in being the sister of a little girl like Lily, Petunia Evans glooms silently as she watches herself in the mirror.

Their mother can say they’re both pretty and as beautiful as each other, Petunia isn’t convinced – and she’s neither not blind nor deaf. The people’s comments on ‘what a pretty little girl you have’ Mrs Evans receives with a look or beaming pride aren’t addressed to Petunia, no. They’re for Lily and Lily alone. Lily, with her thick mane of red hair, her vivid green eyes, her charming smile, her fair skin, her large smiles. How can Petunia compare, really, with her thin blond hair, her dull blue eyes, her long neck, her awkward limbs, and her laughter that shows too long teeth?

Petunia doesn’t think of herself as ugly, but she isn’t… she isn’t pretty like Lily. The world ‘plain’ crosses briefly her mind before she rejects it vehemently. Petunia isn’t plain, she’s just… average.

She’s always average, no matter what.

And perhaps that’s what bothers her the most, because it seems so unfair Lily to have everything and leave Petunia nothing for her to take pride in. In the fairytales and bedtimes stories their parents read them, there is always the ugly but smart sister and the fair but empty-headed sister, and Petunia wishes it was the case with her family. Who’d care if Lily had all the beauty, if Petunia could have all the brains?

Sadly, life isn’t a fairytale, and Lily has a brain as well under those red locks. She’s always bringing good grades as it is nothing, while Petunia feels like she has to struggle all the time to keep herself above average.

Unfair. So, so unfair.

But Petunia has to have something of her own, something to shine on her own and not just be stranded in Lily’s shadow. If she’s not the prettiest and not the smartest, then Petunia at least can be the most obedient and helpful of the two sisters. It’s not Lily who help their mother dress the table, it’s not Lily who help cleaning the house, it’s not Lily who proposes to do the laundry, it’s not Lily who pull weeds out of the lawn or carefully carry over a drink to their father as he works in their little garden under the hot summer sun.

It’s not Lily Mr and Mrs Evans smiles at and says ‘thank you, sweetheart’ with gratitude, and Petunia can look at Lily with a tiny bit of pride of her own, because see little sister, you’re not the one they thank. If anything, you should follow my lead and be a good girl too instead of a rule-breaking miscreant.

Because Lily is a rule-breaker, no matter how you look at it.

Mrs Evans always said ‘don’t do that outside the house’, reminded them, warned them, ordered them, forbad them, begged them and, in one memorable occasion, threatened them (though being sent to bed without dessert was hardly going to be a deterrent to Lily, ever, Petunia has to admit privately).

For all she loves her daughters dearly (especially Lily), Mrs Evans also worries about appearances, and it’s something Petunia is worrying about as well. For all she is (a little) jealous of Lily’s looks and smarts and would love nothing more than to see her sister being given a taste of her own medicine and become the average (plain) one for once, Petunia also doesn’t want people to say her sister is weird.

Or worse, to hear them say Petunia is just as weird, because what Lily can do, Petunia also can.

Sometimes, at least.

She can’t make the flowers dance in her palms like Lily do (now that’s a trick she’s like to be able to imitate, because if Lily can, surely Petunia can as well), but Petunia can jump high and fall slow, as if she was flying. She can change the color of her dresses and she can make her dolls move on their own, just like Lily.

Only, nobody knows, because Petunia isn’t a rule-breaker, unlike Lily. Mrs Evans has forbidden them to do ‘that’ outside the house, and so Petunia is a good girl and she obeys. She just wishes Lily would listen. But Lily, bless her bold streak, never listen.  
Worse, their parents don’t even punish her when Petunia complains, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow because Lily is deliberately disobeying; she shouldn’t be praised for having done something against the rules! She is a bad girl!

No wonder the Snape boy seems to be attracted to her as if Lily was a magnet, she thinks snidely. He’s a bad boy, so it’s fitting he’d be after a bad girl.

Her mother would find Petunia uncharitable, and perhaps she’d be right; it’s hardly the Snape boy’s fault if his family lives in one of the (too many) poverty-stricken neighborhood of Cokeworth. It’s also not the boy’s fault if he has unpleasant parents – and Petunia is using one of the nicer euphemisms she knows of, because Tobias and Eileen Snape are infamous in this part of Cokeworth.

Then again, the Snapes are not the only distasteful residents of Spinner’s End – if anything, Petunia has heard Mr Evans call them somewhat tame in comparison to the Spudges or the Spinks. Why, the Spudges even got visits from the police, and the Spinks’ two older boys had been arrested for something having to do with weed, whatever that meant. No, Spinner’s End isn’t a good neighborhood and Petunia perfectly agrees with Mrs Evans when she strictly forbids her daughters to go anywhere near the place, especially alone.

Though honestly, she should have forbidden Lily to even try and pick a friendship with Spinner’s End urchins altogether.

But Mrs Evans hadn’t, and because the Snape boy has made an outrageous claim…

_(“You’re a witch!”)_

It makes Petunia clenches her fists, because the nerves of that boy!

It’s not that she doesn’t believe him, because she does – the word ‘witch’ just explained so much about what Lily and Petunia could do, it’s funny how they had never thought about it themselves.

No, what bother her, what makes her furious… is the way that boy’s dark eyes had skipped her over, his gaze reserved to Lily alone, the one true witch he could identify, and dismissing Petunia as being nothing, as being a ‘Muggle’, someone… normal. Average. Plain.

And she isn’t! She isn’t! If Lily is a witch, and Petunia is one as well, because she can do the same things as her little sister (well, almost everything, but that got to count, doesn’t it?)

Not that she tells the Snape boy this (“His name is Severus, Petunia, you could call him by his name, you know.”), because what does that boy even know? He can’t even identify another witch when she’s right in front of him! For all he talks about magic with Lily (not with Petunia, who has to follow them and spy on them to hear most of it, because Lily doesn’t think about inviting her in to join the conversation either, too caught in her own giddiness at hearing there is a whole world of magic out of there, more children and adults like her, too busy begging for scraps of Severus Snape’s knowledge to remember that her sister, that Petunia would like to know as well), he doesn’t seem to know that much, Petunia thinks snidely.

But she’s going to show him, oh yes, she’s going to show them all. She’s no ‘Muggle’, that’s for sure, and she turned eleven last month, and she’s going to have a letter soon and go to that magic school she heard the Snape boy mention to Lily.

The Evans got two witches in the family, and Petunia is just waiting for a chance to prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a letter. But what should have been Petunia's greatest joy is spoiled anyway...

When the letter comes, it doesn’t come with an owl at all, like Severus Snape said it would, but hand-carried by a Hogwarts teacher – an enormously fat, bald, old man who doesn’t look much like a wizard in Petunia’s opinion. But then again, the only real wizard she has met so far is Snape, and he’s not really impressive either, is he?

It gales her, but Petunia has to concede Snape was right anyway; the school does send someone to explain the whole ‘magic thing’ to those who are ‘Muggleborns’. It’s probably just as well, because apparently, you can only send letters to the school through owls, something Petunia finds strange and slightly unpleasant – owls have no place in a proper house, do they? Of course, they’re probably not out of place in a witch house, but that’s beside the point.

Neither Lily nor Petunia have told their parents about the potential magic school, so it’s a big surprise for them when the overweight stranger in a gold-buttoned waistcoat sits in their living room and tells them about Hogwarts and about their daughter is a witch. Their daughters are witches, Petunia mentally corrects them, but she says nothing because… well, because she finds herself speechless from anticipation and perhaps fear, because it’s real, it’s becoming so, so real.

Mr and Mrs Evans are surprised, but they don’t look unhappy, so Petunia supposes it’s good. That means they won’t outright reject the idea to send Petunia and Lily to the school. In fact, they even seem happy, but that might just be because Professor Slughorn demonstrated magic by waving a stick (a real magic wand!) and changing an old, broken chair into a more comfortable looking, intact one.

Either way, it doesn’t take long for Petunia to decide she doesn’t care much for Professor Slughorn – that’s how the school person introduced himself to the Evans. Perhaps she should (and would) have, given he’s bound to become one of her teachers and she’ll have to see him regularly for however long the studies at magic school are, but that man…  
He just insulted her the worst way possible – even if he probably hadn’t meant to.

That’s all Lily’s fault, honestly, Petunia muses half-angry and half-resigned. Of course it is. Everyone else seems to fade in the background when vivacious, clever Lily is present and asking questions with bright eyes and a furious desire to learn and going on about how she managed to fly and is it normal, Professor?

“Well, this is a rare talent to be found in a witch so young,” Professor Slughorn says, pulling on his enormous, thick, walrus-like mustache while he gazes at Lily with a delighted expression, eyes going up and down Lily’s small frame, and Petunia can feel the calculations behind them, as discreet as they are. “It’s not completely unheard of, however, and still an impressive display of magic. It’ll be a delight to teach you come September, young lady.”

Lily looks hopeful and so, so happy. But there is also a hint of doubt in her bright green eyes. “Do I get an early start? Severus said you had to be eleven to go to Hogwarts, and I don’t have them yet…”

Petunia would be lying if she says she doesn’t feel scared, angry and strangely disappointed at the same time in that very moment, because for a second, she can see it; special, wonderful Lily, so talented, so magical, that she’d be welcome to Hogwarts almost three years before anyone else.

But then Professor Slughorn seems to deflate, as if suddenly realizing Lily looks too young to be entering Hogwarts just yet. She’s tall for her age, just like Petunia is, but Lily is still eight (and half, the little girl like to add importantly, as if it counts for a lot).

“How old are you exactly?” the Professor asks anyway, and he seems disappointed when Lily answers him truthfully. “Oh. Well… Unfortunately, I’m afraid Hogwarts doesn’t allow for early admittance, so you’ll have to wait a few years.”

And perhaps it’s not nice of Petunia, but she feels elated as Lily’s smile deems and her shoulders lower under the deception. She doesn’t smile, because she’s not that snide and petty (not yet), but it’s a near thing.

Lily is too young to go to Hogwarts. Petunia, however… Petunia is eleven, eleven since four months now. And if Professor Slughorn hasn’t come for Lily, then he has come for Petunia herself, and the old man seems to realize it as he turns on himself to look at the sister he has previously ignored. Dismissed the moment Lily had appeared and opened her mouth and started to ask questions, questions Petunia had on the tip of her tongue but hadn’t managed to say out loud, suddenly too shy and nervous to ask them.

Professor Slughorn looks at her, and the look of wonder and interest he showed Lily is absent. It makes Petunia feel cold, feel like her stomach is suddenly full of lead. Clearly, Professor Slughorn has judged her… and found her lacking.

Professor Slughorn takes a letter off his coat and raises it to his face to check the address and the name on it (and how rude of him not to have done it earlier!). “Well, if your daughter Lily isn’t eleven yet,” he says to Mr and Mrs Evans and not to Petunia herself, which makes Petunia’s leaded stomach sink deeper, “then I suppose Miss P. Evans is this reserved young lady here?”

“Ye… yes, I’m Petunia Evans,” she manages to stutter as she takes a step forward and her cheeks are red from embarrassment and (secret) anger. She sounds nothing like the bold Lily, and she hates herself (and Lily) a little for that, because that isn’t going to help making Professor Slughorn change his opinion of her.

She reaches for the letter anyway, heart beating loudly as she reads HER name on the envelope atop their address in Cokeworth. She opens it with trembling fingers, and the contact of the parchment under her fingers make her feel elated and terrified at the same time.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

_Dear Ms. Evans,…  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

She… She really is going.

She is really a witch and she’s really going to Hogwarts at the start of September. Petunia’s ears are buzzing, and she barely hears Lily’s begging to read the letter, or feels her parents read it as well over her shoulders. It takes her father’s warm hand on her shoulder for her to calm down and Petunia feels herself smiling, smiling wider than she ever has.

“That’s very nice, but those books… where can we find them?” Mrs Evans wonders worriedly.

“Diagon Alley!” Lily pips in eagerly, jumping up and down, red locks flying wildly around her face as she does so. .“Severus says you can find all you need to practice magic on Diagon Alley in London!”

“Very true,” Professor Slughorn beams at Lily, and he forgets Petunia yet again. “Your friend Severus is from a wizard family, I take?”

“His mother is, and he told me a lot of things about magic already. Oh, Petunia, you must show him your letter! He’s going to be so surprised!”

Oh yes, surprised, Petunia thinks, because Severus Snape never noticed or believed Petunia could be a witch herself, like her little sister. Petunia hadn’t planned to show him the Hogwarts letter, but now… Now, she can only think of his face when she’d show him the letter, when he’d understood the ‘Muggle’ girl he had brushed asides and dismissed as if she was nothing is, in fact, a witch too, and that she’s going to start learning true magic long before he can.

Ah! Now he’s have no reason to brush her asides anymore and only talk to Lily! Now he’d be forced to consider her his equal and talk to her, tell her more about the magical world. But, of course, even if he offered to and gave Petunia his excuses, that didn’t meant she would talk to _him_. Now she could be the one to brush _him_ asides as if he was nothing! She could be the one to inform Lily about everything on the magical world, on the school, on the classes instead of that awful boy, now.

It makes her feel giddy, and she’s smiling already at the thought.

“At least when we send Lily over, she’ll have her sister to watch over her.”

Those few words from her mother make her smile freezes and disappear instantly and the lead weights again in her stomach. She looks up with incredulity at Mrs Evans, who looks reassured. Their father doesn’t comment, but it is clear Mr Evans thinks along the same lines as his wife as he gazes briefly at Lily.

It makes Petunia tightened her fists and she wants very much to snap ‘And me, who will watch over me?’, but she doesn’t, because she’s the helpful, obedient daughter, and it wouldn’t do for the obedient daughter to snap and make a scene in front of a stranger, no matter how justified it would feel to Petunia. Besides, even if her father seems to think along Mrs Evans’ train of thoughts, he also looks at her worriedly for a moment, and that calm Petunia downs.

(She knows, oh she knows Lily is their mother’s little darling, her pretty daughter who looks so much like her whereas Petunia is very much her father’s child in looks, not as pretty, not as charming, not as sweet and for a moment, she resents her mother a little because honestly, can’t that woman makes her mind about anything?

If it had been Petunia who had befriended a boy from Spinner’s End, Mrs Evans would have shrieked and scowled her and forbidden her to ever speak with this boy again – not that she’d have a hard time convincing Petunia. But since it was Lily, sweet Lily who did bring up a misfit friend, the most their mother did was to look worried and say to Lily not to go to Spinner’s End, that if she wanted to speak and talk with Severus Snape, then she should go no further than the park.

Mrs Evans always held disdain for the residents of Spinner’s End, something Petunia copied from her, but the moment Lily found a friend there? Well, they weren’t all so bad, were they?

Her mother, Petunia thought shrewdly, lacked convictions or at the very least, loyalty to the ideas she professed.)

Her smiles are strained from now on as Professor Slughorn prattles about the school and where and how to access Diagon Alley, the famous magical shopping district of London (famous for wizards at least) and putting him a few recommendations about stores to buy from – apparently, some of his former pupils work or own them. And he prattles about more and more things as the Evans gradually become more at ease discussing the subject of magic and what it means for Lily and Petunia.

Professor Slughorn likes to hear himself talk, Petunia decides as she listens silently (but just as eagerly as Lily; any question she doesn’t have to ask Severus Snape is good for Petunia, even if it comes from Slughorn, who is just as bad in her mind, if for different reasons).

“Not every child expresses magic in the same way, of course, even among siblings. Take your daughters, for example; Lily seems to have a more creative twist on her own fits, doesn’t she? Oh, it doesn’t mean she’s more powerful than her sister, of course! It can depend on circumstances, on potential, on talent, on magical strength – though the subject is much debated. There have been instance of children displaying very little accidental magic as children who became incredibly powerful wizards as adults.”

“Oh yes, it can start very early, though most children experience them before they’re seven years old – actually, it’s very hard for a child not to display any magic before that age and those who don’t usually don’t receive an Hogwarts letter.”

“Yes, flying is unusual, but as I said, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s certainly better than to suddenly render your own mother bald, which I personally did as a child of six during a temper fit. My mother wasn’t amused about her hair, but my father was very proud. My young cousins, for their part, gave their father a horn after reading a book on unicorns – they really wanted to meet one, see? Why, yes, unicorns exist! I dare to think you’ll even be able to meet one, provided you select Care to Magical Creatures in school when you’re old enough, Miss Evans.”

“No, no, there is nothing to worry about concerning Lily and her magic displays; she’s a child after all, she can’t be expected to control them. That’ll change once she starts Hogwarts and obtains a wand to practice magic, of course, but in the meanwhile, there won’t be any consequences. Well, she might receives a few letters from the Improper Use of Magic Office since she now has a confirmed contact in the wizarding world thank to having an older sister about to enter Hogwarts, but don’t worry; I’ll have a word with Hershel – former student, a charming fellow, he’ll go far in the Ministry – and I’ll explain the situation. Young Lily won’t get in trouble.”

“Of course, it would be best if the less Muggles possible witnessed them. Nobody likes to send a team of Obliviators or an Accidental Magic Reverse Squad for something a child did. If anything you judge too serious happens or if you are worried, perhaps it’d be best to send an owl to the Ministry. I think you mentioned a friend of Lily is an underage wizard as well, with a witch mother? They can help you with it, I’m sure – lend you an owl, at the very least.”

“Yes, I’m afraid owls are the most frequent way to communicate among us. There are other ways, of course, but I don’t think you’d be comfortable with them, nor would you be able to get Ministry approval, at least not until your daughters are of age.”

“Oh, don’t worry about money! We do use our own form of currency – Galleons, Sickles and Knuts to be specific. You can easily change your Muggle money for wizarding currency at Gringotts – our bank. They have an office on Diagon Alley, yes. You’ll easily be able to set an account for both your daughters. No, I admit I don’t know what the actual exchange rate is. I rarely have dealing in the Muggle world. The Goblins will be able to tell you without problems. Yes, the bank is manned by Goblins.”

“You do have an amazing daughter here; I’m sure she’ll do great things.”

Of course the last part isn’t about Petunia, the blond girl thinks bitterly as she tightens her hold on the Hogwarts letter, not caring about the way the parchment crumples.

She tries to reassure herself. Wonderful, amazing Lily isn’t slated to go to Hogwarts for another three years. It leaves Petunia plenty of time to learn tons of magic and show everyone just what a brilliant witch she is herself. It’s her chance, her big chance to outshine Lily for once – her chance to have her little sister look at her with eyes full of pride instead of looking up at Snape likes he owns all the secrets of the universe, to have her beg Petunia for attention or for showing her a spell or for reading her books about magic.

She’d be the exceptional sister for one.

(Though no one can outshine Lily for long, Petunia knows it deep down; Lily naturally draws people toward her like a light draws the moths.)

And Petunia is not going to miss her chance, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying putting in tidbits of personnal headcanon here. ^^
> 
> Let's take Petunia's claims in 'Philosopher's Stone' that Lily turned teacups into rats at him; since she implies Lily did so after starting school and that we known children aren't allowed to do magic at home, especially not in front of Muggles (which includes family, apparently), something isn't quite right in that statement. So either there were less restrictions on underage magic in the 70s... or perhaps Lily escaped dire consequences by having caught someone's interest? And who better than Slughorn, who had contacts everywhere and seemed fond of Lily -- or so he told Harry?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Petunia to go to Diagon Alley...

They don’t go to Diagon Alley right away, which frustrates Petunia, who would like nothing more than to go and obtain her books and wand already so she can feel like a true witch already. Her parents prefer to wait – specifically, wait for a day where they can go with Eileen Snape and her son.

It sours Petunia’s mood considerably, being forced to go with that awful boy, but she has to grudgingly admit it makes sense. For the first time, it’s better to go with someone who knows the place and can give them useful tips on what shops to go to or to avoid, among other things.

Still, going with the Snapes, Severus tagging along and tugging Lily’s hand as they ran ahead, the boy clearly excited to show her everything about the Alley, hearing them talk giddily about wands and owls and cats and school robes… it feels like it’s a rehearsal for the moment Lily will be the one to go shopping for her school stuffs.

That moment should be Petunia and Petunia’s alone, but it isn’t. She wishes Lily and the Snape boy had stayed at home, so she could have spend the day with her parents only – and Mrs Snape, she guessed, since her parents wouldn’t have come without her either way. Petunia is also certain the Snape boy wishes he could have let Petunia and her parents behind so he could enjoy the day with his mother and Lily alone.

Well, neither of them was getting what they wanted, so he’d better get used to it, Petunia thinks snidely.

Despite now knowing Petunia is a witch as well, Severus Snape isn’t much nicer with her – but to be honest, Petunia isn’t much nicer with him in turn. She thinks she’s going to forever cherish his look of admonishment when Petunia has showed him her acceptance letter as well as the uncertain face he made after reading it and realizing that yes, Petunia is a witch too and now he can’t push her away when he wants to talk to Lily about the wizarding world.

And Petunia certainly doesn’t allow him to.

He makes faces, but Lily will only go with him if Petunia follows them, because of course Petunia needs to know all about the wizarding world too, and she needs to know sooner than Lily, since she’s going to Hogwarts in September and not in three years, like Lily and Severus himself.

So Severus Snape tell them both about magic, and about the few books his mother keeps under lock and key at their house in Spinner’s End and which he isn’t allowed to touch or bring them. He speaks more to Lily than he speaks to Petunia, but it’s alright. Petunia doesn’t really want to talk with him anyway. The two of them don’t hate each other (not yet), but it’s unlikely they’ll ever be friends, no matter what Petunia’s little sister seems to wish.

“It’s here,” the older witch says laconically as she makes a gesture toward a ragged-down pub nested between a bookshop and a record shop.

There is some confusion on the Evans’ part, because they don’t see a pub like their daughters, but a broken-down old shop.

“Protection spells,” Mrs Snape says laconically as she go ahead without a pause, forcing the Evans to follow her at a more cautious, sedate pace. “Every wizarding place has some installed to hide them from Muggle’s view.”

Mrs Snape isn’t forthcoming with information – she looks really unhappy to be here. But then again, Petunia has the sneaky feeling the Snapes always look unhappy, whatever the reason. It doesn’t stop Mr Evans to try and make small talks, while Mrs Evans keeps her distances. She looks at Mrs Snape’s up and down from the corner of her eyes, and she has a displeased expression on her face from times to times, the same expression Petunia has when she’s unhappy herself. Obviously, her mother isn’t impressed with the ragged down clothes Mrs Snape wears, something Petunia can only approve of.

No wonder her own son wears such weird clothes, if he has to follow his mother’s example, Petunia thinks uncharitably as Mrs Snape keeps the door of the Leaky Cauldron open for them.

They don’t stay in the pub for long, to Petunia’s relief and disappointment – the place looks raggedy and grubby, but there are real witches and wizards here, wearing pointed hats and real robes of many colors. One of them even has moving patterns!  
Diagon Alley, though… Diagon Alley easily makes up for the rushed passage through the Leaky Cauldron.

Petunia takes small, uncertain steps on the cobblestoned street while next to her, Lily is clapping in her hands with excitation. She doesn’t bother to turn to see what face Snape is making as she tries to process what she sees. The colorful robes, the turbans and pointed hats, the mewling of cats, the hooting of owls and the croaking of toads, the cauldrons lined up in front of a store, the hanging, sometimes animated shop signs above the crowd…

It’s exactly what she thinks magic should be like. And she can’t wait to buy everything the Alley has to offer.

Sadly, it doesn’t work quite that way.

Magic is real, magic is wonderful… but it doesn’t fill your parents’ wallet.

The thing is, as much as Petunia holds the residents of Spinner’s End in disdain because they’re poor, the Evans aren’t as well off as she wishes they were. There is a reason that their house, small but neat and well-maintained by Mrs Evans, stands in walking distance of Spinner’s End, one of Cokeworth’s poorest neighborhood.

Mr Evans has a good work, or at least he considers he has one, but raising two daughters on a single salary isn’t always easy, and concessions have to be made. There isn’t meat on the table every day, Mrs Evans does her daughters’ dresses herself and Petunia hands down her clothes to Lily when they become too small for her. Pocket money to buy sweets is sparse and new toys are rare. Still, Mr and Mrs Evans do their best to make their daughters feel loved, feel beloved (though their attempts are, sadly, unbalanced).

It makes Petunia feels self-conscious sometimes and deep down, when she thinks of the future, she likes to imagine herself married with a wealthy man with only a single child to raise so she can spoil him or her like she wishes she would have been spoiled herself.

But this future is far, far away, and she needs to concentrate on the now.

Going to Hogwarts is going to cost money – a lot of money even, when Lily will also be going. The inscription fees, at the very least, are taken care of already, paid in part by the Ministry of Magic, who helps finance the education of every magical child in Great Britain.

But Petunia still needs many things, from a school uniform in triple exemplary, robes to wear over it and a cloak and assorted clothes such as socks and underwears and brassieres (which aren’t mentioned in the list but which are common sense to buy, especially since Petunia is a growing girl slowly entering the awkward stage of adolescence) to school books and quills and parchments to do her homeworks and a wand, a hat, protective gloves, a cauldron and brass scales for her future Potions class, a telescope,…

The Evans can’t buy everything brand new, to Petunia’s embarrassment (though she finds solace in the idea that Severus Snape won’t be able to either when his turn comes; the Snapes have little money to their name, everybody knows it).

Still, even if concessions have to be made, Petunia puts her foot down. She doesn’t care if her books come from a second-hand shop nor if she has to use glasses phials, which are cheaper, instead of crystal ones to stock her potion ingredients. She doesn’t care if her telescope is plain and her brass scale the minimum size the school will accept, or if there are mended tears in the lining of her second-hand trunk.

She’ll suffer it all, if she can at least have robes and a uniform, even just one, straight out from Madam Malkin’s, to look the same as everyone.

Thankfully, it’s something her parents agree to easily, to Petunia’s relief – though a cynical part of Petunia’s mind points out they probably did so because they expect Petunia to outgrow them quickly and so be able to give them to Lily when she’s the right age.

Mr and Mrs Evans don’t protest either to pay the full expense for Petunia’s wand. Mrs Snape has warned them; a witch or a wizard won’t be able to correctly practice magic if their wand doesn’t fit them, and second-hand wands are tricky because they took habits from their previous owners, whatever that means, and aren’t always bending to the will of the new ones.

Petunia’s heart beats loudly when they enter Ollivander’s, which Mrs Snape laconically said was the best wand maker in Great Britain. It beats even louder when they get out as she cradles in her arms a thin, varnished wooden box in which her wand is stored. Lily and Severus Snape are on her heels as they walk back toward the Leaky Cauldron, looking at the case with undisguised longing and, in the case of Snape, jealousy.

Petunia isn’t sure she really liked Mr Ollivander, but his wands, oh, his wands! She tried a dozen before finding what the old wizard called ‘the right fit’, all of different length and girth, some decorated and some plains, some straight and narrow and some curved and wide.

Even if she doesn’t see him ever again, Petunia doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the wand maker’s words.

“Cedar and unicorn hair, eleven inches long, quite rigid. Not a bad wand at all, if you don’t mind me saying, especially for a young witch. It’s not the most powerful combination I have produced, but it’s a steady one. What the wand doesn’t have in raw power, it compensates in finesse. You’ll probably find yourself more at ease with certain forms of magic than with others, but that wand will serve you well, young lady.”

“I’m so jealous, Tuney,” Lily decrees when they are back home later in the evening and sitting together in Petunia’s room. Her truck is full with everything they have bought today, though nothing is in order yet, and Petunia will probably do and redo it over the next weeks before her departure. She wants to read all the books, and Lily wants to – and probably Snape as well – so they’ll probably be in and out of the trunk all summer.

Even now, Petunia is perusing through her Herbology book while Lily sits cross-legged on the bed, chin in her hands as she looks at Petunia’s wand with glowing eyes. It makes Petunia’s chest fill with pride, those few words from her sister, that admission of jealousy that is rarely directed at her. She’s used to be the envious one, not the one envied, and it feels good, so very, very good.

“Can’t I…?” Lily begs again for what must be the twentieth time today.

Petunia shakes her head, unable to hide her smile. “No, Lily. Mom and Dad said I wasn’t to use it just yet. Besides, you’ll have your own soon enough.” She moves to close the case and put it back in the truck for now, though she’ll show it again and again to Lily every day, just because she can.

Lily pouts, rolling a lock of red hair between her fingers. “Three years is too long!”

Petunia smiles widen. “Deal with it, little sister.” And she laughs as Lily playfully throws a pillow at her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to be Sorted...

Snape has left a lot of things out of his description of Hogwarts and Petunia wonders if it’s out of spite toward her (unlikely, since Lily was also present and pestering him) or because he doesn’t know that much in the end.

“It’s a bit of a tradition,” one of the students with whom she has shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, a blond girl already wearing blue trimmed robes over a black, knee-length skirt, a grey jumper and a blue and bronze tie – Ravenclaw’s colors, if Petunia remembers Severus’ description right -- has explained as a giant of a man called for the First Year to join him with an amused smile. “The adults and older siblings give us pointers and tease us, but they don’t want to spoil the surprise. They want our first experience to be, well, as magical as possible. They don’t even mention how the ceremony goes in the books, by precaution. Don’t worry and just enjoy your ride with Hagrid. See you in the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony!”

And the ride was indeed enjoyable, though Petunia can’t say she feels very reassured – it’s the first time she’s climbing in a boat and is it a giant tentacle she briefly saw piercing the water?! What the hell is hiding in the lake?!

She forgets it all when she sees the castle for the first time, standing tall and proud above the lake, windows full of lights, and she’s one of the multiples voices pushing little cries of surprise and wonder as the boats continue forward and pass under an archway and point a small port. The new students cluster together as Hagrid lead them deeper into the castle, under the steady, dim glow of torches and floating candles Petunia keeps raising her chin to look at with round eyes. She’s not the only one, thankfully; many little girls and boys do the same, the ones who have Muggle parents and who never saw magic before.

(She’s aware of the sniggers of other students, the ones who have the chance to have been born in the wizarding world altogether, and it makes her ground her teeth together in displeasure. The amused smiles from the other half of them are easier to palate, but not by much.)

Professor McGonagall, who greets them at the doors of the Great Hall and takes over for Hagrid, a tall, rather severe-looking woman wearing tartan-patterned robes, makes Petunia stands straighter in anticipation and admiration. Now, that’s what she calls a witch. Petunia listens with attention as Professor McGonagall explains about the four Houses of Hogwarts (something Petunia already knew, thankfully) and she wonders in which one she’ll end up.

The ceremony in itself is anti-climatic. Petunia has expected something grander than to put on an old, ratty-looking hat in front of everyone until he shouted aloud which House you now belonged to. The song is a nice touch, she admits, though she doesn’t find it very catchy.

_(“The Hat isn’t always very inspired,” an older student agrees when she dares to speak of it during the feast, “but I suppose that after several hundred years to trying to come up with new songs, he has to reach its limits. Last year’s song was even worse.”)_

One by one, students get their name called aloud by Professor McGonagall and go to sit on a stool in front of everyone before the Professor drop the hat on their head. A little blond girl with whom Petunia shared her compartment squeezes her hand briefly before Professor McGonagall calls ‘Burbage, Amity’. She stays nearly two minutes under the Hat before it loudly proclaims she belongs in:

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

She’s immediately followed by a ‘Burbage Charity’, who the Hat proclaims to be a ‘RAVENCLAW’ after a few seconds of deliberation. Petunia doesn’t clap with the rest of the Great Hall after each Sorting, too nervous to move much. The lead weight of the summer has come back and is sinking in her stomach as more students are called – lots of C and D, she notes, come of which with very extravagant names. Those with the most outlandish names often end up in Slytherin.

She knows about Slytherin. Mrs Snape used to be one, according to Severus – and that’s the House Severus is hoping for as well when it’s time for him to start Hogwarts. It’s the House of those who have ambition and who are cunning, if Petunia believes the Hat’s song. It doesn’t sound half-bad, especially if you want to prove yourself a strong witch.

But…

It’s also Professor Slughorn’s House. He had said so himself when he visited the Evans, and Severus Snape all but confirmed it. Slughorn was already Head of Slytherin when his mother was going to school.

(“I’m surprised he came to deliver a letter to a Muggleborn student. My mother said he never did it when she was a student. Perhaps the Headmaster forced him or something.”)

Petunia sees him, sitting at the table, in between a very small wizard that could very well be a dwarf (Do dwarves truly exist? She never thought about asking Severus) and a woman with clothes full of dirt spots and twigs in her hair. He pays attention to the Sorting, of course, and clap for everyone. But Petunia notices he claps a little harder for students who end up in his House, or for those who have a complicated name – those from wizarding families, perhaps from famous ones, for all Petunia knows. His eyes kindly scan the rows of First Year, but Petunia knows the kindliness hides more calculations than the children around her might be aware of. He’s already judging them, trying to weight their potential and if they’re going to be worth his attention.

His eyes crossed Petunia’s… and the little girl’s heart is painfully wrenched when he swiftly passes her over, no light of recognition in his eyes.

He doesn’t remember her. Of course, Petunia thinks bitterly. Professor Slughorn might have come to deliver her letter, but he only had had eyes for Lily. Of course Lily Evans’ sister would slip his mind almost immediately.

She still feels bitter when ‘Etheridge, Egon’ is send to ‘GRYFFINDOR’ and Professor McGonagall calls for ‘Evans, Petunia’. She moves slowly, mechanically, not looking at anyone or anything as she sits down, until the edges of the Hat darken her vision.

“Hmm, where to place you, I wonder,” a little voice says to her ear and Petunia almost jumps up in fright. Despite the dark, her eyes darted right and left to find a source to the noise, only for her to realize it was the Hat speaking. And he was speaking in her head! It was… creepy. “You’re not a bookworm, though you have a thirst for knowledge… and a thirst to be acknowledged and to prove yourself. You can be petty and jealous, but you don’t abandon those who counts on you or those you care about. Now, where should I put you?”

Petunia’s hands clenched around the edges of the tool. “Not Slytherin,” she thought angrily, “not Slytherin.”

Bad enough Severus Snape wanted and would probably be send there (though who knew, in a few years, Petunia might feel more charitable toward him), but to be forced into a House supervised by Professor Slughorn, who has slighted her and obviously doesn’t think she was worth his time? As much as she wants to show him, to prove him how wrong he was, she can’t bear the thought of having to go to him for anything.

“Not Slytherin? Are you sure? You could do well there, with that will to become great. I can see it in your head. No? Well, if you’re so certain, then better be HUFFLEPUFF!”

The Hat is removed from her head by Professor McGonagall as the students start to politely clap. Petunia gets to her feet, feeling wobbly, and gives the Deputy Head a shaky smile before she heads for the Hufflepuff table. She sits between Amity Burbage (it’s her sister Faith with whom Petunia shared a compartment with on the Hogwarts Express. Charity Burbage, who was Sorted in Ravenclaw, is their cousin. Two of Charity’s sisters are in Hufflepuff too) and a boy with square glasses she doesn’t remember the name of.

Petunia’s breathing is becoming more even and the weight in her stomach finally disappears.

She’s at Hogwarts. She has been Sorted. She’s going to enjoy a real feast with other witches and wizards. Tomorrow, she’s going to start learning true magic. She’s already thinking of what she’s going to put in her first letter to her parents and Lily, detailing all she experienced so far (but not everything, everything; there are things Petunia is going to keep for her, such as her nervousness and the lead weight and the uncharitable thoughts she has about Professor Slughorn, or how the Sorting actually goes, since it’s traditional not to spoil the surprise and she doesn’t want to be the one to break tradition).

It’s going to be glorious, Petunia thinks, and she smiles contently as the Sorting continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Petunia Evans, Hufflepuff student; that doesn't sound half-bad, right?
> 
> Truthfully, I never really considered Slytherin for Petunia, at least not seriously. Petunia has ambition, of that I'm sure, but Hufflepuff seemed a better fit, for Petunia does stick with family, kinda (taking Harry in despite loathing the fact, still exchanging at least Christmas cards with Lily if nothing else,...).
> 
> Meeting Slughorn only heped turn her off the House, as she felt too slighted to ever want to belong there -- cue why I needed Slughorn to drop her letter, the asides fact of explaining how Lily could have gotten to do magic in a Muggle house without the Ministry getting on her case ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning Magic isn't quite as simple as it sounds, as Petunia finds out...

Magic is much harder to learn than Petunia has first suspected. Or perhaps it is her who isn’t really talented. Whatever the reason, it makes her want to cry in frustration when she sits on her bed late at night, rereading the essays she’s supposed to hand in for Transfiguration or Charms or Potions, wondering if she doesn’t have it wrong – again.

She’s trying, she’s really trying, but her grades don’t reach above ‘Acceptable’ in most subjects.

Transfiguration is always a disaster; Petunia doesn’t have a knack for it, much to her bitter regret, because if there is one teacher she wants to impress besides her Head of House, it’s Professor McGonagall. Petunia can turn her matches into needles, but the needles stubbornly stay made of wood. The yarn balls she tries to turn to stone remain colorful when they don’t remain suspiciously soft or crumbly. Her teacups keep mustaches or tails and her hedgehogs keep interesting and wholly out of place flowery-patterns from the pincushions they originally were. She doesn’t lose points, because she’s attentive, but she’s not winning any either.

Charms are a bit better, for the most part, so long as Petunia proceeds slowly and with minutely precise wand moves and articulated spells. She can make her quills float above the desk, but can’t reach the ceiling like most of her classmates. She can change the colors of the objects she’s trying to charm, but she can never get the right nuance she’s aiming for, much to her frustration. The tip of her wand barely light up when she says the incantation, and she can’t manage a proper Alohomora despite her tries; she just manages to jam the lock rather than open it. Petunia is, however, very proud of her Mending Charm, which is near perfect; you don’t even see the mend in her cloak (which, sadly, had to be bought second-hand) when she’s done with it.

Defense Against the Dark Arts isn’t worth to be mentioned. Perhaps, if they had a more competent teacher… But most likely not. Petunia reads as much as she can, and it does help to answer pop tests and quizzes (and even bring in a few Points from times to times), but practical demonstrations are a nightmare. She’s rubbish at counter-curses, even if she knows the correct incantations. The only thing practical exercises ever brought her, asides of bad grades, are two trips to the Hospital Wing to vanish boils and to get her hair to grow back.

“Perhaps you should practice just ducking when a spell comes your way,” Amity Burbage nervously advises. Petunia huffs, but don’t rebuke her.

As a general rule, Petunia finds out she’s doing better in subjects that require little to no wand-work. It is ironical, since it’s the wand that makes the wizard or the witch, but it’s true nonetheless.

Take Potions, for example. Petunia doesn’t delude herself in thinking she’s good at it, or at least not steadily good, but she definitely turns in results at the end of each class, unlike Charms and Transfiguration. Cutting roots is simple. Crushing shells is easy. Petunia can’t quite hold back her revulsion at some of the most esoteric ingredients, such as the rat livers and the frog tongues and the beetle eyes, and perhaps it does play a part in her average results, but her Potions grades keep up.

Astronomy is easy enough, provided Petunia doesn’t grow sleepy toward the end of the night and miscalculates an angle or writes down the wrong star name on her chart. Constellations are easy to identify, planets a joke to find, and Petunia easily brings in an ‘Optimal’ or two at each exam. The Astronomy teacher smiles kindly at her and tells her to keep the good work. It is also her who first suggests Petunia to take Arithmancy or Divination when it’s time for her to select additional.

History of Magic is challenging, if only because it’s a trial to stay awake during Professor Binns’ lectures. Having a real ghost as a teacher should have been funnier and more exciting, but half of the students find themselves nodding off or falling asleep entirely during the class. Petunia resists stubbornly, makes a point of listening and taking as much notes as possible. Her battered copy of _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot has dozens of bookmarks slipped between its pages in a complicated system only Petunia seems to be able to decipher. She aces the class, though no one ever compliment her on it.

Petunia also takes to Flying easily enough. The school’s brooms are of dubious quality, some better than others, but they’re working on the Board of Governors, who should be the ones to finance the new material, don’t see a point of changing them yet. Petunia still learns to fly. She’s not elegant and graceful but she flies with a quick efficiency that makes the instructor nods at her and marks her as passing the class.

In the end, Herbology is Petunia’s best subject no matter how you look at it. Unlike History of Magic, she doesn’t have to struggle to stay awake, and she rightfully enjoys the few hours a week she spends in the glasshouses. She has a natural green thumb, even if her affinities push her more toward flowers than toward the exotic, dangerous specimens all witches and wizards must learn to identify and care for or defend themselves from. She’s top of her class here, but once again it doesn’t bring her much attention.

Hufflepuffs are supposedly all good at Herbology, since their Head of House is traditionally the Herbology teacher, so what’s surprising in seeing a Puff as the best Herbology student in their Year?

It makes Petunia’s first year an endless circle of frustration. She doesn’t breath a single word of it in her letters home, however – she doesn’t want to disappoint her parents, nor does she want Lily to look at her with anything but admiration until she enters Hogwarts too. Besides, she’s certain Lily will share the content of Petunia’s letters with Severus Snape, and if Petunia could eventually tell her parents about her difficulties at school, there is no way she’ll let that awful boy know. He’d only be too happy to mock her.

Hogwarts isn’t a total waste, however. Petunia easily befriends two of her fellow First Year, Amity Burbage and Yolanda Nobbs. Petunia hesitates to call them best of friends yet, but they are on their way to become this. Unlike most of their classmates, Amity and Yolanda don’t make Petunia feels inadequate.

Amity has three sisters and six cousins, all girls, all of them witches; she’s the youngest on her side of the family, but she’s in the middle when all cousins and siblings are brought together. She’s used to be ignored in favor of someone else – something Petunia can relate to. It’s the same with Yolanda; she too has to buy many things second-hand, even more so than Petunia, and while she doesn’t speak about it, it’s not hard to guess at her home too, money is running tight. They never breach the subject between them, however.

Petunia goes back home for Christmas break and for Easter then at the end of the Year, putting a genial smile on her face, hiding any lingering discomfort over her difficulties with wand-using subjects.

Summer is too long and too short at the same time. Petunia does her homeworks in her room with Lily and Severus Snape perusing through her books, sitting on the floor and whispering between them about what they’re reading. Occasionally, they ask her a question or two and Petunia answers distractedly. Snape isn’t impressed with the First Year Potions book, arguing the steps are all wrong or the ingredients shouldn’t be added in that order. Petunia tries not to sneer, tells him he can’t know better than a published author, but makes careful notes of several of Severus ideas, for comparisons.

Second Year starts pretty much the same as the first. Petunia sits at the Hufflepuff table and claps for the new arrivals, especially the new Hufflepuff students. She hands her homeworks and receives more average grades. They have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, though it doesn’t make much difference for Petunia, who is still struggling with the subject – though not as much as she’s struggling with Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall’s unimpressed look tells it all.

By the time they reach the end of September, it has reached such proportions that Petunia is snarling whenever she thinks of the subject. She has nothing against the Professor herself – McGonagall remains fair and as helpful as she can – but Transfiguration, oh, Transfiguration! Petunia can’t wait to have passed her OWLs and be able to drop it. At this rate, she might not even be able to pass this year, and she doesn’t have Flying anymore to compensate for her bad grades.

So she’s surly and snappish as she let herself be coaxed by Amity to come and see the Quidditch trials. Two of Hufflepuff Chasers have graduated and they’re seeking new ones; Amity’s cousin Chastity is among the students trying for the position and Amity wants to cheer on her.

Petunia can’t say she’s a big fan of Quidditch. Sure, she has assisted to all the matches and cheered for Hufflepuff each time they were playing, but she was never a sport fan. Still, the weather is still warm for the season, the day is sunny and she needs a break from her latest Charms essay.

There are at least a dozen students present for the tryouts. Petunia sits on the bottom row of the pitch with other students who came to support siblings or friends, Amity and Yolanda by her side. One of Hufflepuff Beater, Reginald Cattermole, is showing them the new bats they received – a donation. He ends them out to anyone who asks to see them closer.

Petunia doesn’t ask, but Yolanda does; she ends it to her friends after a summary inspection.

The bat weight heavily in Petunia’s hand and she swiftly change her grip to take it with two hands, equilibrating the weight. It’s heavier than she first thought.

It is lucky for her she holds it right, because as she vaguely waves it to test the swing, at Yolanda and Amity’s encouragement, someone on the pitch shouts.

It’s pure reflex.

Petunia sees the Bludger – escaped one, someone released the straps too soon -- coming their way, coming straight for Amity’s head. Her body moves before her mind even realizes she did. The bat she holds swing hard and fast, catching the Bludger straight on before it can crash into Amity or into the stand and fly away, at the other end of the pitch, narrowly missing the head of another student on its way.

“Wow, Evans! That was awesome!”

Petunia blinks, looks up at Cattermole. Amity’s hands are over her mouth, her face white with fright while Yolanda hugs her in reassurance. Cattermole – and several of the students behind him, including the team Captain – are looking at her with respect and a twinge of admiration. It makes Petunia feel warm and she tentatively smiles.

“Nice swing you got there, Evans – and you hit hard. Say, would you trying to hit another Bludger or two? I’d like to see if you can do a repeat.”

Petunia accepts – and Petunia does a repeat, then a second, a third, a fourth, until her arms are tired and she can’t hold the bat right anymore.

The Captain nods as she finally says she needs to stop. “Yeah, you’re lacking in endurance, but with some training, that can be easily corrected. Besides, you’re a Second Year girl who is still growing, I don’t expect you to have as much muscle mass or strength as a Seventh Year boy. That said, you have the marks of a good player. Evans, what would you say about joining the team? We’d be in need a Reserve Beater…”

Petunia stares at him and turns around to look at Amity and Yolanda. Amity has regained her colors and is jumping on place while Yolanda is nodding fervently, encouraging Petunia to accept. A place on the Quidditch team is an honor; they only have seven players, always the best of the House. True, a Reserve position is less prestigious, but it’s a step in the right direction – everyone on the Reserve team makes it to the main roster, unless they opt out.

Petunia looks back at the Captain and starts to smile. Perhaps this Second Year won’t be so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch player Petunia; now that's something that'll set her apart from Lily once her little sister makes her way to Hogwarts ;)  
> I have this idea of Petunia as a Beater since reading about her swinging a pan at Harry -- which was definitely bad, but the idea she could swing a bat rather than a pan stayed with me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Quidditch becomes Petunia's way to stand out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update because I desperately need some cheer, someone. There has been a death in my family and the funerals are tomorrow...

Quidditch, Petunia decides quickly, is a lifesaver; it helps her to stand out in a way mere magic hasn’t until now.

She had never considered a career in Quidditch before, but she wholly embraces the idea after moving from Reserve player to main Beater during her Third Year. Her grades are still painfully average, though she’s slowly starting to make a break out in Charms; her Cheering spells are among the best of her class.

(She doesn’t confess to anyone she spends a lot of her free time practicing them on herself.)

Plainly put, without good grades in most of the core subjects taught at Hogwarts, Petunia’s career options are limited. She can’t become an Auror or a Healer, for example, something that worry her because those are the two main professions she has heard of so far, and she doesn’t want to go back and work in the Muggle work when she’ll have finished Hogwarts.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Yolanda advises when Petunia brings up the subject one morning as Second Year reaches its conclusion. “We have time before it becomes an issue. Now, what do you think of Muggle Studies as an elective for next year? Do you think it can be useful to me?”

Electives take some serious consideration. Petunia assures Yolanda (and Amity, when she asks as well) that Muggle Studies definitely can’t harm her, but to her, who is Muggleborn, it’s practically useless. It could help her get an easy grade, but Petunia feels reluctant to sign up for the class anyway.

Petunia almost signs up for Ancient Runes so she can share a class with Amity before dropping the idea after an older Hufflepuff helpfully shows her some of his notes, making her feel nauseous. She doesn’t understand a single thing about what’s written, the symbols don’t make sense and she doesn’t have the patience to learn.

Care of Magical Creatures she considers carefully, weighing the pros and the cons. On one hand, Petunia wistfully wishes she could see a unicorn from close up, and there is always a class or two on unicorns in the program. On the other hand, she has never been overly fond of animals in general, since they tend to be filthy or bring dirt in the house. To settle the matter, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Kettleburn, has a reputation for enjoying dangerous Creatures and being utterly reckless with them. Older Hufflepuffs share tales that leave Petunia awed, amused and horrified, sometimes all at once. Rumor has it Professor Kettleburn went through more than fifty periods of probation in his career. Seeing him sitting in the Great Hall with prosthesis doesn’t ender him to Petunia at all, and she discreetly tears up the formularies to enroll for Care of Magical Creatures when no one is looking her way.

In the end, Petunia selects Arithmancy and Divination, which had been suggested early on by the Astronomy teacher.

They’re not Petunia’s favorite subjects, but she makes them work – especially since they don’t involve using her wand. Arithmancy is hard but it’s interesting and allows her to practice mental calculations, and she can link it up easily with her other elective. Divination is more nebulous; the teacher, an old wizard who is near retirement, warns them that he can only teach them guidelines and that only those who have the Sight will ever be able to make full of them. Petunia doesn’t have the Sight, but she’s good at guessing and interpreting the signs.

(It does help that she loves gossip and has a sharp eye; she can make a lot of predictions just by using bloody common sense and an understanding of how people work.)

“You should have taken Care of Magical Creatures with us,” Amity often says during breakfast or dinner, looking chagrined over the fact their respective electives don’t allow them to pass all day together.

Petunia just looks at her, at the small burn marks on Amity’s school robes, at the bandages around her hands, doesn’t comment on the smell left by the breath or the dung of whatever Creature Kettleburn decided to make his students take care of today, and smiles thinly. “I think I’m just fine where I am, thank you. Besides, it would cut on my training time for Quidditch.”

It makes Amity giggle. “You and Quidditch, Petunia! Who knew you’d become such a big fan?”

Petunia just smiles and doesn’t comment further. The truth is, Petunia isn’t the big fan she portrays herself to be in front of her roommates and Housemates. It is a mean to an end, simply. It has its ups, such as the admiration of several of her classmates, and her downsides, such as her Christmas gifts now containing a lot of Quidditch-themed items. Petunia finds the Snitch patterned socks tacky and the mini-Quaffle earrings too flashy. She doesn’t complain about the scarf adorned with flying broomsticks because it’s made of heavy, warm wool and protects her well from the cold. The protective gloves are always useful and Petunia can’t hold back a fond smile in front of the copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ she opens on Christmas Day with a note telling ‘To Petunia from Lily; Merry Christmas big sister!’ scribbled in the margin of the first page.

Petunia studies strategies and learns rules and goes through all the Quidditch books the Library owns, she trains as hard or even harder than her fellow team members, she uses what’s left of her pocket money to get a subscription to a Quidditch magazine and learn the names of all the major players of the last half-century in Great Britain, but she doesn’t consider herself a fan.

She considers herself resourceful.

She’s thirteen going on fourteen, and she has plans.

(It is not for nothing the Hat suggested Slytherin.)

First, Petunia wants to become team Captain. It’s the most prestigious position on a Hogwarts team (and in any Quidditch team in general, although people are often fond of Seekers over any other type of players) and Hogwarts teams Captains have better chance to be noticed and recruited by a professional team after finishing Hogwarts.

Sports are fine and bring in money, but she can hardly play Quidditch all her life. When she pictures her future, Petunia sees herself as signing up for a League team after leaving Hogwarts (which one, she doesn’t know for sure yet; the Holyhead Harpies have a good reputation, but she isn’t sure she wants to play in a all-women team. She wouldn’t be able to stand out as much as she wishes. Perhaps the Appleby Arrows or the Wimbourne Wasps, who had excellent results in the last few seasons and are very much in the public’s eye) and playing a few years before retiring to become a journalist specialized in Sports – or perhaps taking a job at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Surely they would hire a former famous player, even if Petunia’s grades wouldn’t have qualified her for a position otherwise? Anyway, she would secure a position somewhere thank to her connections in the Quidditch world. She’ll get married, of course, preferably with a rich wizard husband, and have one child to pamper. She’ll have a nice, large house with a garden and she’ll put magical flowers everywhere and be envied by her neighbors for how well-maintained her household would be. If she was feeling generous, she’d have her sister for tea once or twice per month, and Lily would look at her with a beaming smile and compliment her older sister for her successful life.

Oh, and Petunia would snub the likes of Slughorn, who hadn’t see talent when it was in front of her, or those uppity Slytherins who looked at her disdainfully because her parents were Muggles.

(And never mind the fact she could be just as uppity as them.)

It would be a good life, Petunia decides, nodding to herself in satisfaction. She just needs to keep up the Quidditch practice and ameliorate her flying to make it happen.

Well, keep up the Quidditch practice, makes sure her name is recommended for Captaincy, and not let herself be distracted with Lily’s upcoming arrival to Hogwarts.

Petunia loves her sister, she truly does. But she’s also keenly aware of what Lily is: a beautiful, powerful little witch who attracts all glances for one reason or another. Her striking green eyes, her deep red hair, her natural talent, her friendliness… She’s everything Petunia is not. Plus, Lily knows a lot already about magic; she read Petunia’s old essays and all her old books, and Severus Snape probably told her more about the wizarding world than he ever bothered telling Petunia during those three years.

Still, Petunia sends an owl to Lily to wish her a Happy 11th Birthday, and teases her about not being able to wait to see her on the Hogwarts Express.

Lily is her sister, she keeps reminding herself. Jealous as she can be, Petunia is still fond of her, still care for her. And surely, Lily won’t be good in everything?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily comes to Hogwarts; what happens doesn't surprise Petunia much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year 2019.
> 
> Here's hoping it's not as bad as 2018...

Well, Petunia was right to be apprehensive over Lily’s arrival at Hogwarts. It takes her sister barely a month to start to outshine her – just long enough for her to receive her first graded essays and first grades and run up to Petunia to show her, a bounce in her step and a delighted look on her face.

Lily is already top of her class in Charms and Potions and even in Petunia’s most dreaded subject, Transfiguration.

“I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad!” Lily bounces happily, red locks flying wild around her head.

“I bet,” Petunia answers, mess up her sister’s hair as Lily chuckles playfully and tries not to let her smile turn brittle at the edge.

Moments like that made her glad Lily isn’t in Hufflepuff as well, though it sometimes is a bittersweet kind of glad because having Lily in Hufflepuff would have been a good way to try and keep their relationship mended. Not having her in Hufflepuff, however, means she can’t out-shadow Petunia as much as she would if they were in the same House.

Of course, Petunia can’t say she’s surprised Lily has been Sorted in Gryffindor; her little sister is friendly and smart but also has always been bold and just shy of totally reckless. It is lucky Professor Slughorn slipped a word with the folks he knows in the Ministry because if he hadn’t, Petunia is sure Lily would have gotten in trouble already (or worse, gotten Petunia in trouble too; sometimes the workers at the Ministry don’t check up if there is more than magical person in a Muggle neighborhood and make assumptions on who cast a spell. Petunia has had to make Lily swear she wouldn’t do any magic while Petunia was home before she stopped having nightmares over the potential consequences.)

Petunia regrets and doesn’t regret Lily’s Sorting. Having her closer would have been easier to keep an eye on her and makes sure Lily doesn’t end up with bad frequentations, something both Petunia and Mrs Evans are worried about – their mother even pulled Petunia asides to ask her to watch over Lily; as if Petunia wouldn’t have done it herself without prompting! Knowing Lily considers Severus Snape one of her best friends is already bad enough.

Petunia isn’t surprised by the Snape boy Sorting either, when she thinks about it. More than once, he has mentioned his mother has been a Slytherin herself when she was a schoolgirl, and Petunia has learned enough about the wizarding world to know Sorting runs into families (whereas it’s because they all have the House qualities or because they don’t want to disappoint their parents or grandparents by being Sorted elsewhere, Petunia is less certain; there is a lot of pressure put on children and Petunia has witnessed two or three breakdowns and panic attacks already).

Severus Snape belongs in green and silver because he has a flame in his eyes, a flame that shines more subtly in Petunia’s owns.

(She thinks, sometimes, about telling him the Hat proposed her Slytherin, just to see what kind of face he would do. It would be absolutely hilarious.)

It reassures Petunia that Lily avoided Slytherin altogether; Lily is still eleven, still new to the wizarding world, still innocent. Not only does being Sorted in Slytherin ‘designated rival House’ stops her from spending all her time with Snape (as much as it stops her from spending it with Petunia) but it also puts her out of reach of some of the school’s most unsavory elements.

Lily is innocent and sweet and kind, but Petunia is older and she’s fond of gossip and she has an ear out for rumors.

Something is happening outside of Hogwarts’ halls. Something has been happening for years now, but only now is it starting to crystallize and Petunia doesn’t like what she hears at all, nor what she reads in the Daily Prophet when she borrows it from Yolanda or Amity. Slytherins are at the thick of it and Petunia has seen mere disdain and polite disinterest toward Muggleborns turn into cold calculation and outright hostility when it isn’t barely restrained malice. Take the Seventh Year Slytherin Prefect, for example; Lucius Malfoy is good-looking and smart and from a rich, pureblooded family. He’s always polite to a fault and Petunia used to find him cute, but his eyes have become much colder when he looks at Hufflepuff – or at anyone not Slytherin (not Pureblood) and now he gives her chills. Petunia will be glad when he’ll leave Hogwarts at the end of the year.

The only one in Slytherin who is immunized to the changing mood (or seems to be, at any rate) is Slughorn, but Petunia doesn’t trust him either.

“And we got our first Flying lesson this morning,” Lily confides with a smile, making Petunia pauses in her musings. Her heart wrenches a little.

“Did you? How wonderful! How did it go?”

Lily makes a face. “It went alright, I guess. I got the broom to obey me, but I’m not sure I like leaving the ground,” she confesses, and Petunia breathes more easily at the admission. “Plus, the boys are so annoying! Severus couldn’t get the broom to obey him at all and Potter and Black started laughing at him! As if they had done better themselves,” she sneers.

Petunia just nods. “Those two boys in your Year you were telling me about, right?”

Lily always complains about Potter and Black and more recently, she has started to add the names of Pettigrew and Lupin (“I don’t know why they go along with them, I thought they were smarter than that!”) to the list of people she finds insufferable. Petunia has heard their name dropped as well from teachers and students alike due to practical jokes they played on fellow students or cheeky remarks in class. Also, Sirius Black is a name that often comes up in gossip – the eldest son of a traditionally Slytherin-aligned family getting Sorted in Gryffindor? Such a scandal! Narcissa Black, Sirius’s cousin, a haughty but very elegant Sixth Year Slytherin, was rumored to be mortified. And that wasn’t even mentioning the even more scandalous tale of her older sister Andromeda eloping with a Muggleborn wizard against their parents’ wishes. The Black name was a source of endless chatter for Petunia and her friends.

Personally, Petunia hasn’t met the boys yet, but she isn’t impressed by Lily’s description.

The redhead makes a face. “The very same. They’re always mocking Severus, you know.”

“That’s not very kind of them,” Petunia replies, though she doesn’t care much about it. Knowing the Snape boy, he’ll find a way to retaliate soon enough, if he hasn’t do so already. She got more important things to worry about. “So you don’t like Flying at all, Lily?”

Her little sister shrugs. “I don’t know yet. Flying doesn’t seem so bad, but I don’t think I’ll ever want to play Quidditch. I saw the tryouts for the new Gryffindor Seeker and I find it reckless and dangerous. How can you even like it?” she asks Petunia with a put-out expression that makes Petunia chuckles.

“It’s an acquired taste,” she explains. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind in time.” She hopes not, but she’s not going to tell Lily that.

Her sister shrugs, not convinced (thankfully!) and goes back to chatter about her grades and the letter she’s going to write to their parents – which reminds Petunia she must sends one of her own soon – while Petunia listens and nods in the right places and compliments Lily for her success and encourages her to continue that way before a beaming Lily goes back to Gryffindor’s table for lunch before her afternoon classes.

It becomes harder to just nod and be happy for her as time passes, however.

Petunia keeps trying to convince herself it’s not Lily’s fault if she’s good at every subject Petunia’s herself is struggling with or untalented in. It’s just, well, luck (or bad luck, if you choose to look at it that way) and it’s not as if Petunia hadn’t guessed beforehand it’d be the case. Even Ollivander’s comments about Lily’s wand (“Nice for Charms work.”) had been a big clue.

She just wishes teachers weren’t already starting to compare the two of them. And they do, Petunia knows they do! She doesn’t hear them talk about it directly, but she knows the way they glance at her; her Muggle teachers had done pretty much the same when Petunia and Lily attended school together in the past.

It grates, but there isn’t much to be done – asides of discharging her frustration during Quidditch training and matches. On that front at least, Petunia’s dreams go according to plan.

The Ravenclaw Seeker goes down with a well-placed Bludger to the back during the first match of the season and the Gryffindor Guardian is too busy dodging the Bludgers Petunia keeps heading her way to stop Hufflepuff from scoring. She's aggressive in her way to play, but it's perfectly within the rules, as she reminds herself frequently. Lily shouts loud encouragements in the stands whenever Petunia plays and Severus Snape, sitting at her side, weakly waves a Hufflepuff banner with the look of someone who’d like to be anywhere but here, so long it isn’t Slytherin Petunia’s team is playing against.

Hufflepuff wins the Cup in 1971 and Petunia is carried in triumph by her classmates after her last Bludger knocked Chaser Chao Tong off his broom and put him out of commission for the rest of the match. It’s the happiest day of Petunia’s life so far and she’s sure it’d be enough to power a corporeal Patronus if she ever managed to get the spell right.

“If you keep that up next year, Evans, I’ll make sure Cattermole nominates you as his successor,” Chaser and current Hufflepuff Captain Liam O’Flaherty lets her know when he takes her asides to talk during the party the House improvises in their Common Room.

It makes Petunia feels both elated and disappointed; she had hoped to get the position next year already. O’Flaherty is a Seventh Year and it was his last Cup; knowing he’s going to his title of Captain to Reginald Cattermole stings a little. “Why don’t you hand me the position now?” she whines, because she’s ready for it, she knows she is, and it’s not like it’s unheard of to have young players as Captain. Ravenclaw’s current Captain is a Third Year boy, for Merlin’s sake!

“Evans, you’re good on the pitch, but how are your grades coming along?” O’Flaherty replies, making Petunia blush. O’Flaherty puts a hand on her shoulder; it’s large and warm and reassuring and suddenly, Petunia’s blush isn’t just about embarrassment. “There isn’t anything wrong with not being a scholar – we’re not Ravenclaws! – but next year, you’re going to pass your OWLs. They’re important for your future, and I know you struggle with most subjects. If you have to split your attention further between reviewing for the exams and leading the team, one or the other or even both will suffer. Plus, if your grades drop too much, you are risking probation from the team. And we don’t want that, do you?”

Petunia nods reluctantly. No, she doesn’t want that at all. O’Flaherty’s smile is small but genuine and Petunia has the feeling that if she were younger, he’d be ruffling her hair in affection. “Once your OWLs are over, you’ll be free to drop the subjects you don’t want to continue and it’ll free your timetable. You’ll be able to devote more time to the team if you don’t have to worry anymore about keeping grades up in subjects you hate. Does it sound reasonable to you?”

Petunia sighs. “Of course it does. But it’s going to feel so long!”

O’Flaherty squeezes her shoulder. “I know. But I know you can do it, Evans. I trust you.”

They don’t talk about it again before the end of the year, but Petunia isn’t worried. O’Flaherty is what many consider a model Hufflepuff, and when he makes a promise, he keeps it. If he says Petunia will make Captain in her Sixth Year, then she’ll make Captain in her Sixth Year.

For now, she only has to survive Fifth Year… and passes her thrice damned OWLs!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are OWLs results and news.

“Well… I guess it isn’t so bad,” Mr Evans says awkwardly as the little family crowds in the kitchen on a hot summer day – with the unpleasant addition from Severus Snape, but Petunia hasn’t managed to shoo him away before the arrival of the Hogwarts owl. Not that she had tried very hard; those days, Snape is spending half his time at the Evans’ home and Lily has a worried look in her eyes. Whatever is going on at the Snapes doesn’t seem to get any better.

Petunia still finds him unpleasant to deal with, but their relationship is also more cordial than it had been in years – mostly since they started arguing about which plants would be more effective as replacements in various potions. Petunia will never be a good potioneer, but she knows her plants and Snape grudgingly respects her expertise on the subject, or at least he will until he gains enough knowledge of his own about it.

That, and Petunia may or may not have knocked James Potter out of his broom thrice in the same match during last Quidditch season, something that earned her a genuine smile from Snape as well as a formal ‘thank you’.

Petunia didn’t do it for him, of course (not really); Potter, a scrawny and braggart Second Year he was, just happened to be the new Gryffindor Chaser and the easiest to target before Gryffindor’s Beater finally decided to upgrade their game and protect him. Petunia certainly didn’t target him because she finds him to be irritating, or because he frustrates Lily so much or because Petunia herself witnessed him target new Slytherin First Years with his pranks, along with Black, and had been filled with indignation. Jinxing students their age is a thing, but eleven years old who don’t know enough magic yet to defend themselves?

(True, Petunia doesn’t care much for Slytherin students and she’s more and more certain something is wrong, but it’s a question of principles. You don’t target little kids, even if you’re barely older than them. Especially, she thinks viciously, if like in Black’s case, you’re actually aiming for a single, specific younger wizard who happens to be your little brother.)

It makes Petunia regret that Headmaster Dumbledore and her Head of House, Professor Tuft, passed her over as a Prefect; she would have enjoyed taking Points off those little miscreants. Of course, knowing Amity and Yolanda got passed over as well was also a balm upon her soul, and it’s not as if Petunia has any problem with Madge Babcock, who ended up getting the badge.

She would have been too busy between Quidditch and reviewing for her OWLs for Prefect’s duties anyway, Petunia forcefully convinces herself.

And when she sees the results… well, she didn’t do that bad, did she?

The ‘Dreadful’ in Transfiguration is not a surprise at all – Petunia has spent five years scrapping for acceptable grades and rarely managed them. She scored average on the written portion of the exam, as usual, and practice was abysmal; he only made a couple of flowers disappear from a cactus – as well as the examiner’s mustache, which probably didn’t help her case.

The ‘Poor’ in Defense Against the Dark Arts is also unsurprising. Five years, four different professors (Professor Myron stayed two years but opted out after falling pregnant, apparently with triplets. Who the father is and how it did happen are a mystery still debated in Hogwarts’ gossip circles because Professor Myron was a) at least sixty years old and b) not interested at all in gentlemen, if the glances she let wander upon Professor McGonagall had been any indication) and Petunia never got a hang on the subject.

She knows the basis of defending herself against various magical creatures and how to use a Shield Charm, so that counts for something at least, right?

“It’s pitiful,” Snape says, looking cross and surly, and Petunia reddens before he continues speaking and he realizes he’s not talking about Petunia’s performance. “Nobody is getting good grades in Defense anymore. With a real teacher, I’m sure you could have done much better, Petunia.”

Petunia blinks, because that’s unexpected. It’s not a very good compliment, but given Severus Snape never really gave her one before. “Well, thank you,” she says slowly, eyeing him dubiously. “But I don’t think I was good at it anyway.”

“Still, I’m sure you could have gotten an ‘Acceptable’ if you had better teachers!”

Petunia wonders if Snape is sincere, of if he’s trying to score points with the Evans and with Lily in particular. It’s hard to say with that boy. Petunia can never fully read him – which, in retrospect, might be why she feels so hostile with him. Perhaps.

She goes back to rereading her OWL scores without a further commentary.  
She scored ‘Acceptable’ in Potions and Divination. For Potions, it’s a relief; she had been so worried about the phial she had handed at the end of Practical, knowing the brew was too thick – she had started with a brew too thin before adding powdered Flatworms and messing the quantities, which she felt like kicking herself for. For Divination, it’s a bit of a deception; perhaps she should have been less creative during palm-reading and more creative with her tea-leaves reading, but it’s not like she could come up with signs she wasn’t seeing on the spot. Well, she could have, but Petunia, stressed and tired, hadn’t been able to come up with anything convincing.

Thankfully Charms and Arithmancy had been much better, she thinks as she takes pleasure in seeing the Exceeds Expectations noted next to the two subjects on the parchment. Her long evenings of spell casting and quizzing with Amity and Yolanda had paid off. And Arithmancy had turned out to concern a segment she had reviewed the day before, which had been a stroke of luck Petunia had ruthlessly used.

But her real pride comes from the three Outstandings she has received for Herbology, History of Magic and Astronomy – as if there had ever been any doubt she would ace them!

“So it’s good?” Mrs Evans asks, nervously playing with the chain of her pendant as she reads over Petunia’s shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” Severus Snape confirms before Petunia can open her mouth, “though I don’t know if it opens many career choice. Getting an OWL is good but you need a lot of NEWT if you want to get specific jobs. Though I suppose that if Petunia wants to play Quidditch, it doesn’t matter that much,” he adds while giving her a look.

It makes Petunia want to snap at him because that definitely wasn’t a compliment. She’s painfully aware of what that boy thinks of brawn over brain – and painfully aware of how limited her options are as well outside Quidditch.

Professor Tuft has been clear about it during Petunia’s Career Advices session in April. Not unkind, but not very encouraging either, though Petunia can’t say she had expected more. When he wasn’t busy with his classes, Professor Tuft was always too busy reading specialized newspapers and magazines and sighing about how much he wishes he was in South America or India or Oceania participating in researches on a new subspecies of Devil’s Snare or whatever to lend a true ear to his students.

_“I can only commend you on your progresses in Charms, Miss Evans, though Professor Flitwick added a note about your remaining difficulties with new material. Professor Slughorn does note your Potions level is steady despite a few hiccups, but that you may not be able to qualify for NEWT level classes. Transfiguration… Yes, perhaps it’s better not to go there, I agree. What else…? Yes, yes, perhaps it doesn’t bear to details all your results.”_

_“While being good in History of Magic or Arithmancy or even Divination is commendable, those OWL or NEWT won’t allow you to go for a career as Healer or Auror… Oh, you don’t plan to? Good, good. I’m sorry, those are often the ones the students always ask about, especially those who are undecided yet. But if you have an idea already…”_

_“Professional Quidditch? Hmm, yes, yes, I suppose it’s possible. You certainly are a good player, though I confess I don’t know much about the recruitment process of the League. I must have a pamphlet somewhere… Ah, here! ... Well, you’ll need to register with the League to obtain a license and send a letter to the team you’re interested in. I warn you however that they don’t recruit every year and that Reserve players earn less that their main roster comrades. Perhaps it’d be best if you had a backup career plan…?”_

_“Well, if you pursue your efforts in Charms and History of Magic, I’m sure you can earn a place as a clerk at the Ministry. Here, take this leaflet… Public Information Services or Magical Maintenance Department are always looking for witches and wizards, even on short-term contracts.”_

_“Of course, given you’re a Quidditch player, you can always write to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but they will require you to have at least four NEWT, no matter the subject. You also try the Broom Regulatory Control Office, which depends from the Department of Magical Transportation; as an enthusiast flyer, you’d probably be well-learned in broom comfort and safety. But there too, you’ll need a few NEWT.”_

_“No, I don’t think they’re matter that much, though I do suggest you keep Charms. Be aware however you’ll need at least an Exceeds Expectation for Professor Flitwick to allow you in his classroom. I would also suggest you keep Herbology and History of Magic. Should you decide to change career option – it happens, Evans, it happens – it could help you get a job with an Apothecary or a Ministry-sanctioned Potions ingredients supplier. Amazing folks, and if you have a green thumb… No? Don’t dismiss the idea just yet, young lady, you’d never know. What else…? Hmm, yes, keeping Arithmancy and Astronomy if you pass can’t harm, but you’ll need an Exceeds Expectations as well…”_

_“Well, Miss Evans, I wish you good luck with your exams, and we will speak of your career options again in September should you wish to. I’ll also be available during all Sixth and Seventh year if you have more questions…”_

It’s Lily who glares and snaps at Severus before Petunia can utter a word. “That’s not very nice, Sev! And Petunia is an amazing player!”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Snape defends himself hastily, “but Montague and Warrington both told me it’s very hard to truly pierce as a professional player, I’m just worried.”

More like worried Lily would hate him for badmouthing her sister, Petunia thinks privately, but her sister looks mollified already, so it’s a victory for him.

“He does raise the right question,” Mr Evans comments, looking at his oldest daughter with pride and worry mixed. “Are you sure you can do it, Petunia? I’m all for professional athletes, but that Quidditch game sounds dangerous…”

“No more than any sport, Dad,” Petunia replies primly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so,” her father replies, and the worry is still evident in his voice. “Nevermind, then. I think that your OWL results call for a celebration; how about we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow? We can buy you a treat or two while picking your books for next year…”

“Books, and new robes,” Mrs Evans adds. “Yours are simply too short again. When are you going to stop growing?” she asks Petunia fondly, making Petunia’s lips twitch.

“Soon, I hope.” She’s not joking. Petunia is already among the tallest girls of her year, if not the tallest Hufflepuff girl. It wouldn’t be so bad if her size wasn’t putting too much emphasis on her long neck as well and there is only so much a high collar or a scarf can dissimulate.

“Speaking or robes,” Lily pips in, “can we stop at Madam Malkin for me too?”

That’s an unusual request, because usually Lily wears Petunia’s former dresses, altered magically to lose their Hufflepuff trimming in favor of the red and gold of Gryffindor. Lily never complains about it, so why…

“I’m going to need dress robes this year. Professor Slughorn extended me with an invitation to that club he manages and he said I’d need proper dresses to attend dinners,” Lily says with her beaming smile.

Petunia feels like she has suddenly bitten into a lemon and Severus Snape makes a choking sound. “You got an invitation for the Slug Club?” he manages out, sounding amazed, envious and dismayed – potentially because he hasn’t been invited too (yet).

Petunia feels pretty much the same. The Slug Club! Professor Slughorn’s prize and joy, the (according to him, at least) best students of Hogwarts, who were destined to become famous. The parties and dinners Slughorn regularly organized for them was the stuff of legend – and regularly fed the gossip at Hogwarts, with students eagerly commenting on who had gotten an invitation and who hadn’t and who had worn what or danced with whom.

Everyone wants to be in the Slug Club – Petunia herself wishes Slughorn would invite her.  
(He won’t, she knows it already, but how she wishes…!)

It’s no surprise Slughorn extended an invitation to Lily, honestly. Petunia has suspected one would be the moment she has heard about the Club, back in her First Year. Slughorn had showed himself too interested in Lily for Petunia not to have recognized he was scouting for talent already. It’s just… Lily is only thirteen, she’s only going to enter Third Year! To be invited so soon, when she’s from a Muggle background (and it counts, no matter what Slughorn might say, because it means no useful connection besides your own talents)…

It’s a powerful statement.

“It’s wonderful, darling!” Mrs Evans says, because she’s not a witch, but she understands quickly Lily is given a big opportunity, one that could be decisive for her future. “Of course we will buy you dresses!”

Petunia closes her eyes and briefly grounds her teeth. Lily has chosen her moment to steal her thunder, she thinks bitterly. Thankfully, Petunia has kept an ace up her sleeve.

“That’s wonderful, Lily,” she says as calmly as possible. “Mom, if Lily gets dress robes to go to dinners, can I have a new broom for Quidditch? I mean, given I’ve been named Captain of the team, I think it’d be appropriate if I had a better broom to lead my team to victory.”

Cattermole sent her the confirmation letter in which he hands her the captaincy late the previous night, and Petunia had decided to announce it with her OWL results. A good thing she did, because Lily in the Slug Club…

Lily squeals and hugs her. “Team Captain! Congrats, Tuney!”

Their parents’ congratulations are more sedate, even if heartfelt. Snape’s are mumbled; he’s not a fan of Flying and a very moderate fan of the game. Potter’s success in Quidditch might not be helping him develop more than a passing interest in the game.

They chat quietly. Of course they’ll buy Petunia a new broom, it’s only normal, and Lily will have her dresses, and it’s lucky Mr Evans has a small raise at work. Maybe they’ll have to buy more second-hand books to compensate, but if it pleases their daughters…

“You really choose your moment to tell Mom and Dad,” Petunia says later to Lily, when they’re about to go to bed. The red-haired girl has the good sense to look contrite.

“I’m sorry Tuney, I didn’t think… It’s just, since Dad had mentioned going to Diagon Alley, I thought it was a good time. We can’t do another trip there before the end of summer and…”

“It’s alright,” Petunia cuts Lily off. “I’m not angry.” Not really – and if she is, it’s more at Slughorn who also has the most disastrous timing ever, what’s with choosing the summer of Petunia’s OWL to invite Lily in.

Lily looks dubious. “You’re sure.”

Petunia smiles thinly. “Certain. Or just a tiny bit,” she finally confesses when Lily stares at her. “Eh, come here,” she beckons, opening her arms, and suddenly she has a handful of thirteen-year old witch hugging her. Hugs do a lot to mend the little tears in their relationship, Petunia muses as she and Lily sit down and braid each other’s hair for the night.

Let’s Lily have the Slug Club. Petunia had Hufflepuff Quidditch team’s captaincy; it was compensating nicely.

Everything was going according to plan so far. Petunia just had to make sure it continued that way.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While making plans is nice and good, following them is never quite that easy. And the world keeps growing darker. On the other hand, Petunia may still get some recognition from younger students...

Plans… aren’t as easy to follow as Petunia would wish.

True, her studies are continuing well. Without Transfiguration, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, her schedule is lighter and her grades in general better since she can focus on what she really enjoys. In addition to Charms, History of Magic, Herbology, Arithmancy and Astronomy, Petunia has kept Divination after some consideration, because an extra NEWT can’t hurt and Professor Clarmont accepts students at Acceptable in a desperate bid to fill his classroom. Even so, Petunia’s timetable allows for many breaks that can’t all be filled with Quidditch of self-study.

Which is why, after some consideration, she signs up as a tutor to help younger students review their lessons. In Sixth Year, Petunia mostly helps younger Hufflepuffs, First Years who are easily overwhelmed by the mass of information to remember or Second Year who wants to check they haven’t forgotten it all during summer.

It helps to make Petunia more popular among her Housemates, which is useful to counterbalance Petunia’s growing jealousy toward Lily and her admission to the Slug Club. Professor Slughorn tends to subtly drop the students who don’t live up to his expectations, but it’ll be a cold day in Hell before Lily fails to meet said expectations, Petunia is painfully aware. If anything, her little sister seems to thrive under the attention. She’s making more and more friends as time pass and Petunia is glad she won’t be in school anymore when Lily is named Prefect and, eventually, Head Girl.

And boys are starting to notice Lily as well, much to Petunia and Severus Snape’s frustration. Granted, it’s not for the same reasons.

Petunia is envious of Lily, because no boy has ever given her the time of the day so far, not even for innocent flirting. The most she gets are First Years or Second Years who are in admiration before the House Quidditch team and follows her around shyly to ask her for an autograph, which Petunia always grant after a while. Now, Petunia has slipped little notes in bags and waved at good-looking boys, but they never waved back or answered the notes. It’s pathetic.

Severus, for his part, is white with fear and anger whenever a boy is showing too much interest in Lily. Which, Petunia muses, would explain a lot about Snape’s growing hatred for James Potter, the whole ‘House rivalry’ and ‘prank war’ asides. Potter is like a young peacock trying to court attention from everyone, including Lily, whom he’s starting to make doe eyes at – not that Lily is noticing. She’s clueless when it comes to boys. But of course, she’s only thirteen years old, not quite fourteen yet. It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t sharing a House with Lily, which means that unlike Snape, Potter could see her pretty much every and at every classes except electives they didn’t share.

It’s another form of pathetic.

The Snape boy has it bad for Petunia’s sister, had it bad for perhaps as long as they had known each other, though Petunia isn’t sure it’s a nice and sweet feeling like love is usually described in the books. Severus Snape’s love is of the absolute, obsessive kind. Nothing wrong with that so long he respects Lily and her wishes, Petunia supposes. The problem is, that boy is starting to take a wrong turn somewhere and his friendship with Lily is a little more frayed than it was before.

The bad feeling Petunia has had for years is starting to fully crystallize now. The Daily Prophet is starting to report disappearances and mysterious attacks – and at the site of each one, the presence of a sinister mark, a skull with a snake for a tongue. Plus, among the students, many have become more vocal about Blood status and how Muggleborns are an aberration.

It’s very present in Slytherin, that way of thinking – and it’s very present in Snape’s friends.

Petunia has to wonder what Snape is thinking, or if he’s even thinking at all. Surely, he realizes what kind of people they are? Surely, he realizes that those people mean Lily harm? Petunia doesn’t delude herself in thinking Snape cares for her -- or if he does, it’s remotely, because she’s the only other witch in his immediate neighborhood, Lily’s sister and a ‘childhood friend’ (in a manner of speaking). He certainly doesn’t care for Muggles, though he tolerates Mr and Mrs Evans (again, they are Lily’s parents, and they are caring individuals who never hesitate to invite him over for dinner if Lily asks and take him along to Diagon Alley when he wants to go and his mother is unavailable -- which is more and more often those days).

His attitude toward Muggleborns… well, Petunia admits it’s trickier, because she never witnessed Snape being overtly hostile with anyone not born from wizard parents. Not yet anyway. But he’s gaining a cool disdain about them as he’s growing up, just like his Housemates. Is it an attempt at fitting him? Or was he always like that and is slowly showing his true colors?

Lily is the only person who seems to be fully immunized to this growing dislike of Muggles and other non-Pureblood wizards. (Not hatred. Not yet. Perhaps never. But coldness and disinterest to the plight they might suffer can be worse.)

Well, if he wants Lily to notice him, he’s going to get his wish, Petunia thinks nastily. But it certainly won’t be the way he hopes, nor will he likes the results. Lily is all sweet and smile, but underneath the polite surface, she can be as shrewd as Petunia and Mrs Evans.

(The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all, and for all they had diametrically opposed tempers, Petunia and Lily had received the same education, been raised with the same ideas. Lily was slower to be judgmental than her mother and sister, but when she was, it was crushing.)

But nevermind Snape and Lily; whatever would happen between them isn’t Petunia’s problem.

What is going to happen to her outside the school is a bigger concern to her. The ‘incident reports’ of the Daily Prophet are sparse, but Petunia knows the problem is worse than they care to admit. She wonders if they are following orders from the Ministry -- it would be logical. However, even if Hogwarts is pretty isolated from outside influences, you can’t cut contact between students and their families -- and you can’t indefinitely hide the fact many children take sudden leave to deal with sick or injured relatives or worse, to go to funerals. Take Madge Babcock, for example; she still hasn’t come back to school, which is worrisome.

The whole situation is making Petunia nervous. But hopefully, it’ll blow over before she graduates.

Still, Petunia keeps a close eye on the newspapers as Sixth Year progresses and slowly morphs into Seventh, her last Hogwarts year, and she lets her ears wander further than usual, picking up on any rumor she can -- though for once she doesn’t comment on them with Amity and Yolanda.

Hufflepuff wins the Cup at the end of her Sixth Year -- a close thing because in the end they have only a ten points difference with Slytherin, but it’s a crowning moment of pride for Petunia has she lifts it high above her head under the applause of three fourths of the pitch. Perhaps unsurprisingly so after that, her tutoring sessions gain even more success, to the point students from other Houses are starting to approach her at the beginning of September 1974, asking her if perhaps she’d agree to review their homework or give them pointer.

Lily is one of them, much to Petunia’s smug, hidden joy; it’s good to have her perfect little sister asks for pointers like she once did before Hogwarts or before the end of her First Year. Severus Snape used to (grudgingly) do the same; it isn’t happening anymore.

There is, however, someone unexpected who asks shyly for Petunia’s help with homeworks.

“Please? Evans… I mean, your sister often said you’re good at History in the Common Room and I really need help because half my notes got ruined during that skirmish with the Slytherins the other day and I can’t ask James and Sirius to lend me their to copy because they don’t really care for History of Magic and their notes are full of weird stuffs and they easily mix up names and places for fun and Remus’ already lending his to other students all the time because he’s about the only one of our class who actually stay awake in Binns’ class asides of me.”

Petunia just stares at Peter Pettigrew dubiously. She usually doesn’t pay much attention to younger students not belonging to her House but thank to Lily’s rants (and Snape’s, when he bothers to talk with Petunia), she has a fairly good knowledge of the little group of Gryffindor Fourth Year who nicknamed themselves the Marauders (even if the nickname is unofficial and Petunia has only heard about it because she keeps an ear out for the rumor mill).

James Potter and Sirius Black are the more infamous, if only because they’re the most cocky, the biggest braggarts, the best looking ones and the more creatives when it comes to spells and pranks. Remus Lupin is considered the quietest and calmest, possibly due to his frail health that forces him to take many breaks from school (what kind of chronical illness he has is still up to debate, but it’s clear he’s suffering from something). And then, there is Peter Pettigrew. Many mistake him for a simple tag along, but as far as Petunia can judge, Pettigrew can be just as silly and braggart as Potter and Black.

He just happens to not have as much raw talent (or at least that what everybody thinks; it hasn’t stopped Pettigrew to become an Animagus like his closest friends, even if changing into a rat is not as awesome as changing into a stag or a hound. And if he doesn’t get as many good grades as his friends, especially in Transfiguration or Charms, his results are still steady and he can do amazing breakthroughs).

In a way, it makes Petunia feel for him. She knows what it is, to be overshadowed by someone you love dearly despite everything -- a sister in Petunia’s case, his best friends in Peter’s. She knows the struggle it can be to just keep going and stop the love from turning to hatred, how inadequate it makes you feel to always be compared to the more talent sibling (or friend) and how angry it makes you feel when people don’t notice your own accomplishments.

She looks at Peter and it feels like she sees him for the very first time. She sees a very small boy who will become a very small man (unless he hits a growth spurt like his friends, but nature doesn’t seem inclined to grant him that one thing), with watery eyes, mousy brown hair and a pointed nose. He’s fat, but far from obese yet.

He’s not ugly, Petunia finds herself musing to her surprise. He’s not especially good-looking either, just average, but when he stands next to insanely handsome Sirius Black and good-looking James Potter, one can’t help but find him lacking. Pettigrew is so unlucky -- being the ugly one out of his band of friends, being the less talented one of his roommates,... -- that it’s sad.

And it’s probably why Petunia finds herself nodding along, in a rare display of utter compassion, and says that of course, she’ll help him. Two hours a week, no more, you hear me? I do have responsibilities, after all, classes of my own to follow and other students to tutor. And yes, I can help you in Herbology as well, and Astronomy, yes, no need to thank me, I’m only trying to lend a hand.

The utterly grateful look she receives in exchange makes her feel warm.

“Just…” Pettigrew hesitates. “Don’t tell James or Sirius, please? Or your sister,” he adds as an afterthought.

It makes Petunia shrugs. “Sure.” She can understand his hesitation; knowing Potter and Black (even if mostly by reputation), Petunia knows with certainty that they’ll mock Peter for having sought outside help. Lupin… well, Lupin probably wouldn’t, but that boy sometimes reminds Petunia of a doormat in his interactions with his friends, always going along with them. Peter’s friends will probably mean no harm, but they will cause it, oh yes they will. As for Lily… she wouldn’t betray Pettigrew, but it would embarrass him either way. “But how are you going to hide it from them?”

Pettigrew grimaces and makes a vague gesture. “Oh, that won’t be that hard. I’m the only one who take Divination so I have a free period while the others are in Arithmancy and I’m not in the same group as Remus for Ancient Runes, so we don’t even share the class. James is at Quidditch practice two evenings a week and Sirius, well…” he blushes suddenly and Petunia sniffs.

Ah, yes. She is aware the eldest Black brother has started flirting with witches by now, especially if they’re Muggleborns or Half-blood -- a very obvious and stupid way to try and piss off his parents. Lily has been complaining about it a lot recently, because of course Black made a pass at her before Lily threw a book at his head -- and hit him. If he’s busy flirting, he’ll be too busy to keep track of Pettigrew every move.

“I see,” Petunia says laconically, crossing her arms. “Nevermind, then. Come to the empty classroom on the Third floor tomorrow evening, first door on the left. Brings parchments, quills and several ink phials -- different colors, if you please. We will start we redoing your History of Magic’s notes and work from here.”

Pettigrew is fourteen, Petunia reminds herself as the smaller, younger boy nods, promises to be on time and leaves in a hurry to get lunch in the Great Hall. Only fourteen. A kid, really. He just wants to get better grades, he has no ulterior motives.

And still… Petunia wonders why she still feels so warm when she remembers his grateful look.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Petunia's plans for the future meets a hiccup. Or is it?

They are two weeks away from graduation when Petunia reveals her upcoming nomination in a team to Amity. She has told Lily first, and her sister has been thrilled for her. She has hesitated telling Peter Pettigrew, which makes no sense because he’s not really a friend, but… no. In the end she has decided against. Perhaps once she has started playing, after her first official match, she will send him an owl. But she can’t hide it from her best friend. Amity, though… well, Amity follows Quidditch more closely than Lily.

“You’re going to play… for the Chudley Cannons?”

Petunia squares her shoulders and turns her nose up, trying to look superior as she sniffs. “Well, of course I am; didn’t I just said so?”

Amity is still looking at her in disbelief, as if Petunia has grown a second head (which almost happened last month thank to a very ill-timed and misaimed Doubling Charm during a last-minute spell-casting session before the NEWT exams; if Petunia hadn’t dodged at the last second, the results wouldn’t have been pretty), mouth open in a small ‘o’ and eyes wide. She would have looked less stunned if you had told her it was raining candies again (the first time involved Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew and didn’t bear to be talked about in length).

The other blonde witch lets herself fall on her bad with a muted thud, still staring hard at her friend. “I know you want to play Quidditch professionally, Petunia, but… the Cannons? Really?”

Petunia frowns, feeling annoyed. “There is nothing wrong with the Cannons!” she says a little more sharply than she meant to, making Amity winces.

“I’m not saying there is, Petunia! It’s just… they’re not the best team out there, and you could do so much better,” her friend justifies herself.

It mollifies Petunia’s temper, because she knows Amity means it. She has been Petunia’s best friend since their Sorting, even more so than Yolanda, who has taken her distances recently. Though officially it’s because Yolanda is now devoting all her free time to her new boyfriend, a charming Pure-blood Ravenclaw who’s already planning his career in Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Petunia thinks the unofficial reason is fear and not wanting to be associated too closely with a Muggleborn witch.

The Daily Prophet can’t keep the more and more frequent incidents out of its pages anymore. There is now a fully acknowledged Dark Wizard on the rise, with many followers, who openly claims to want to ‘cleanse’ the population of the wizarding world and restore it to its previous ‘greatness’.

Humbug, Petunia thinks. She hopes the Ministry of Magic catch that lunatic soon. Surely they have leads by now, and a plan to seize him and send the whole lot of rotten apples who are openly declaring in his favor in Azkaban?

(And if it can happen before some of Petunia’s classmates decide it’s ‘trendy’ to follow that Voldemort fellow -- his name is still being openly mentioned, his surname as He Who Must Not Be Named still a scant year away -- then so much the better.)

(She’s not looking in Severus Snape’s direction when she thinks about it. Certainly not.)

(Just like she’s not looking at Lily when Petunia thinks that if the Ministry doesn’t solve the situation soon, then it’s an open door to vigilantism as concerned citizens decide to take things in hand themselves. Petunia isn’t religious, but she’s starting to pray that everything about that ‘Pure-blood supremacy’ nonsense dies down before Lily has finished school.)

(Please, please, let it dies down before Lily is seventeen…)

In the meanwhile, the growing fear is making Petunia become aware of who her true friend(s) are. It is also, much to Petunia’s chagrin and bitterness, closing doors for her career.

There are racists everywhere, even among Quidditch players.

Conformally to what she discussed with Professor Tuft (who looks more and more absorbed in the reading of professional articles; Petunia wouldn’t be surprised if he left Hogwarts under two or three years to go back to ‘field work’), Petunia has sent letters to many if not all the professional Quidditch teams registered in the British and Irish League (with a neat preference for British teams, but beggars can’t be choosers).

Petunia had expected many refusals -- Quidditch teams didn’t recruit yearly; when they had what they dubbed a stable roster, they could keep it for years and only added a few Reserve players to lineup in case of injuries or sickness.

But even so, she shouldn’t have gotten so many!

Oh, she believes the Holyhead Harpies’ manager when he writes that she’s sorry and there is no open position at the time; they recruited two new players last year only. Plus, she did add a warm-toned post scriptum congratulating Hufflepuff team for their latest victory and the obtention of the Cup -- a precious sesame Petunia had hoped would help up open more doors.

It doesn’t prove to be so so far. Petunia also believes the Wimbourne Wasps when they say they’re not searching for new recruits, though there are rumors that Ludovic Bagman, one of their main Beater, is thinking of retiring in two or three years; but those are just that so far, rumors.

But she also knows the Falmouth Falcons outright lied when they said there was no opening on their team.

True, perhaps one or two teams in her list have refused to take Petunia more out of ill-placed sexism or even because it wouldn’t strategically benefit them. Women playing Beaters are unusual in themselves (except in the Holyhead Harpies, of course) since many prefer to play Chasers or Seekers and the position certainly favors strong, sturdy men to hold the Bludgers at bay. This had never discouraged Petunia, however; Quidditch magazines were always rich in examples of successful women Beaters and she knows she can make it if someone gives her the chance.

The Falcons, though… the Falcons have refused her because she’s Muggleborn.

Quidditch isn’t such a big world, even for school players, and Petunia’s tutoring sessions allowed her to ‘make friends’ with little Ravenclaw Third Year Primula Hatton, who happens to have an older sister in Petunia’s year, one Iberis Hatton, who also plays Quidditch -- and coincidentally, as a Beater too. And of course Iberis is also interested in playing professionally.

And she’s going to. As the new Beater for the Falcons, Primula has revealed to Petunia with a candid, innocent smile which felt like a stab in Petunia’s heart.

The Falcons’ choice makes no sense if one compares Petunia Evans and Iberis Hatton. Petunia at least is tall and has a long reach with her bat, which is not Iberis’ case -- she’s small and delicate looking. Petunia is a better flyer; she doesn’t have to use her arms at all to control her broom, whereas it’s not rare to see Iberis holding hers with one hand as she hits the Bludgers. Petunia is team Captain, which speaks of how appreciated and talented her fellow players thought her to be; Iberis ended up on Reserve for the last of Slytherin matches, replaced by the more imposant looking Widald Montague. Petunia even has two recommendation letters written for her by Reginald Cattermole and Liam O’Flaherty, the two previous Hufflepuff Captain who also flew with her, in which they expose their belief Petunia would be a good addition to any team she chooses.

Petunia has clearly more aces in her sleeve… but it’s still Iberis who got chosen. Because Iberis if from the respected Hatton family, who have money and connections, whereas Petunia is just a no-name Muggleborn girl.

It’s so unjust it makes Petunia want to scream until her voice is hoarse.

The Falcons are just one case; how many are sharing the same mindset?

So it leaves Petunia with only two options; either accept a Reserve player position for the Wigtown Wanderers -- who have an excellent pair of Beaters, two cousins who are so close and work so well together that no one managed to get to main team as Beater since they started playing -- who only need someone to fill the position ‘just in case’... or accept a proposition to join the Chudley Cannons’ main roster immediately after graduation.

It’s not much of a choice, Petunia thinks bitterly; holding a position where she’s likely to never step a foot on the pitch or get a chance to shine, or work with serial losers. But, she has reasoned, the Cannons’ proposition at least held potential. True, they had been bottom of the League for years now, but they still had a sizeable fan club. And besides, it was just a step in Petunia’s career. Who knew, perhaps she’d manage to get herself noticed by another team while playing for them?

“I know they aren’t the best yet,” she tells Amity with more confidence than she actually feels, “but with me in their team? They’ll get excellent in no time. You’ll see, Amity; I’m going to make them rise up to the top of the League in no time!”

Amity offers her an hesitant but amused smile. “If you say so, Petunia. If you say so.”


End file.
